Walked in with fists tight,
Shouted, cursed, blamed, cried, fell on knees,
Begged for mercy, in church, that night.
Based on the style of Classic Hindi writer, Bihari, known for writing entire story in two lines.
Category: Tiny stories
Awaiting
I look at the clock for the hundredth time. He’s still not home.
3:21 AM: It’s futile to wait up. It is only 3 hour journey. If he was coming home tonight, he would be home long back.
4:07 AM: But his friend had said he met him at VT station…
5:37 AM: He probably didn’t find a train…
6:58 AM: But why hasn’t he picked up the phone?
8:09 AM: Is he alright? Why would he not call me back? I know he is always angry but how can he ignore 26 calls?
9:16 AM: Did he have an accident?
9:45 AM: Should I call police?
10:15 AM: His text reads, “The maid will be late.”
11:13 AM: The maid is home, more cheerful than usual.
11:30 AM: He saunters in more cheerful than usual. I rush to meet him. His hair is wet from the shower.
I quietly move to the inner room. He speaks to the maid in a low tone. They laugh…
Impasse
I hold the phone
hoping you’ll pick up;
hoping you wouldn’t;
hoping you’ll recognise the number;
hoping you wouldn’t;
wondering how you could forget the number
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone
hoping you’re awake;
hoping you’re asleep;
wondering how you could,
when I couldn’t…
I hold the phone wondering
if you have company
and who could she be;
fuming, how you could
when I couldn’t…
Raging, I throw the phone
at the wall
breaking it into pieces
like me…
Still wishing,
you had taken that call…
Ghostly
Sitting on a brick wall
in the sea of the darkest night,
I, a lonely siren,
sang to my sailor,
beckoning him to venture out
of the comfort of his home.
Mosquitoes sang chorus.
Bats flew around
joining my lonely vigil.
The neighbours whispered
of the ghost in neighbourhood,
while, my sailor slept
dreaming of another,
never knowing the one
who awaits him.
Unsaid Goodbyes
You stand with your family
looking at me with eyes full of hate–
angry at god-knows-what
since god-knows-when–
glaring at the lawyer, the clerk, the judge,
your mortal enemies without a grudge.
You shift the glare
to burn a hole through my heart.
Startled, I glance back without anger,
only deep loss at the part
where the last thing we ever share
is the papers you hand over
to set us both apart.
Nowhere
Taking steps one at a time,
Lost in a haze of images–
Too slow to look at,
Too fast to understand,
Backwards in the good times we had,
Fast forward in the non-existent future.
Voices of friends
a blur of background noises–
Too high to like,
Too low to register,
Numb to all pain–
Too numb to be alive,
Too dead to be breathing,
Still existing
In a world without you…
Image by Jr Korpa on Unsplash
One Night Stand
All day, I wait for the night to return
When her long fingers caress me
And light the very fabric of my being.
Her silhouette in the dark room’s door
is the fire to my core.
I watch her every move
as she lies down next to me
with a sigh,
Her dreamy eyes closed to the world,
she smiles.
I sigh too, knowing too well,
My heart would never get over her,
No matter how many years go by.
Of course, she doesn’t understand
how I feel because, for her,
I’m just a night stand.
Receding Light
Still waiting when everybody’s gone
not able to step out
in the bright sunshine
that’d kill all hope.
Still waiting for you to call
and beg me to return,
knowing all too well
you would never
love me enough…
Free photo by Antoine Boissonot on Unsplash
Hiding
Hiding here
so, you can ignore me,
like always,
without hurting my pride.
Image by Regös Környei on Unsplash
Pieces
You picked my pieces
from the ruins,
dreaming to put me
together
on the pedestal
of perfection–
A place where I could
never belong.
Angry, you pushed me
off the pedestal
Shattering me into
Countless pieces
of heart.
Every day.
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 